I Wish I Was...
by Nymphean
Summary: Potions and peculiar situations lead to some rather interesting romances in Harry and co.'s 7th year. Featuring multiple SLASH pairings: HP/RW, SF/NL, RL/SB, to name a few...
1. Revelations of a Rather Odd Sort

A/N: I am very proud to introduce this fic to FF.net. I began writing this (by hand!) during school one day a month or so ago to relieve myself from the boring hell that is analytical geometery, and I have just now begun to type it into the computer. I have three chapters, but since it took me an awfully long time just to get this first one typed up, it may be a while before I post any more. I'll try. 

This story contains loads of slash. It is mostly slash of the non-graphic type, with plenty of snogging and more (tee hee) in later chapters. It is somewhat fluffy. Sorry about that. Studies of this fic show that four out of five Gryffindor males are gay. What can ya do?

I would like to point out that Dean Thomas and Hermione Granger are definitely not gay. 

But not together either. 

Oh damn, I've lost myself again.

The other chapters are better, I promise! 

Anyways, I have several thank-yous before I begin:

To Meg Albatou, for everything. I know it's considered bad manners to go to someone's house and use their computer for hours on end just so you can post the first chapter of your fic, but you don't seem to mind, so merci beaucoup for allowing me to be a rude house guest.

Thanks also to all my other RHHS girlies:

Lisa for tolerating the unrealistic pairings

Sarah for trying to edit out all hints of Percy/Oliver (sorry babe… didn't work!)

Caitlin for being so enthusiastic and, well… squealing at the N/S stuff.

I love you all… you're my favorites! 

There is much, much more to come. 

Future pairings may include:

Harry/Ron

Seamus/Neville

Lupin/Sirius

Oliver/Percy

I would like to assure you all that, no matter what it looks like from this chapter, this is NOT, N-O-T not a Harry/Draco or Harry/Hermione fic. 

Enjoy!!! -Nymphean 

_"Limb by limb and tooth by tooth_

_Tearing up inside of me_

_Everyday every hour_

_Wish that I was bullet proof…"_

_                                -Radiohead_

Chapter 1: Revelations of a Rather Odd Sort

                Harry a sat in the Hogwarts library, scribbling furiously on a large piece of parchment.

                "The effects of the Fundungitis Potion can vary quite a lot depending on the dosage. When taken in small amounts, the fundungia plant causes those who ingest it to see in opposites; Black becomes white, Up becomes Down, Night becomes day, and so on. When taken in larger doses, however, it causes the user to see things that aren't actually there, which is another thing all together." Harry stopped reading and glanced across the table at Hermione and Ron, who were also writing on large scrolls of parchment. 

                "Well?"

                Ron nodded approvingly, but Hermione shook her head. 

                "It doesn't JUST cause hallucinations, Harry. The user sees the thing he or she MOST WANTS to see… in other words, it dupes them into thinking their wildest dreams have come true. There's a slight difference."

                "Right," Harry said, sounding rather lost. He ran his fingers through his unruly hair and made a frustrated noise. "I'm never going to finish this essay! How did I end up with this topic anyway?"

                "Snape hates you," Hermione reminded him, without looking up from her own parchment. 

                "Screw Snape," Ron hissed as he slammed the book he was reading shut. 

                "No thanks." Hermione continued to scribble. Harry made a disgusted face.

                "You guys, that's just not right." He threw his hands in the air. "Well, I officially give up!" He pushed away from the table and table and tucked his parchment under his arm. "See you guys later."

                Ron waved goodbye and Hermione nodded dismissively, to engrossed in her essay to offer a real reply.

                Harry had just left the library when he heard slow, deliberate footsteps behind him. Harry stopped in his tracks, turning on his heel to face whoever was following him. When he saw who it was, Harry's face contorted into an angry scowl, and he felt his fists ball up at his sides.

                It was Draco Malfoy, and he was holding Harry's essay.

                "Malfoy," Harry hissed, "Give me that."

                Draco raised an eyebrow and unrolled the parchment. He read for a few seconds, and then chuckled a little.

                "Interesting, Potter… very interesting."

                Harry fought for control. "Give it to me, Malfoy."

                Draco grinned maliciously. "Why Potter, I never n\knew you thought of me in that way!"

                "That's disgusting!" Harry cried, his voice quivering with rage. "Just give me the essay, Malfoy, and BUGGER OFF!" 

                Malfoy glanced at the parchment again. "Why would I do a thing like THAT?" He drawled lazily, leaning against the wall.

                "Oh that's right, I forgot that you have issues with acting like a decent human being!" Harry said angrily.

                Draco shrugged. "Frankly I'm having far too much fun to even consider that right now." He looked down at the essay. "Hmmm… you really did a lot of work on this…" Without warning, he raised his wand and pointed it at Harry. "Petrificus Totalus!" Before Harry could react, his entire body was frozen and he fell against the wall stiffly, like a wooden board. 

                "As much as I HATE to admit it, you've done an excellent job here, Potter." Draco circled Harry, still reading from the parchment. "Yes, I dare say Professor Snape will be quite impressed. Or he would be, if YOU hadn't written it." Harry glared at Draco, who laughed wickedly. "Oh come ON, Potter, Don't just stand there like a lump! SAY something!" He waited for a few seconds, a vicious grin an his face. "Well fine then, be that way if you want!" Draco began to saunter off down the hall. When he had Walked a considerable distance, he stopped and turned tro face Harry. "Oh, and by the way Harry," He said, raising his wand, "Finite Incantum!"

                Harry felt himself unfreeze just as Draco threw something at him and took off down the hall. Harry reached out, a bewildered look on his face, and caught his essay.

                                                                                *****

                "…And then he just… gave it back to you?" Ron looked at Harry incredulously. 

                "I swear! I'm not making it up!" Harry watched as his knight beheaded one of Ron's bishops. The two were playing chess in the Gryffindor common room after Quidditch practice.

                "Bugger, I needed that!" Ron said irritably. "So what, he just wanted to terrorize you or something?"

                "I guess so. I mean, it's MALFOY, right?"

                "I always knew he was nuts, but… what kind of an idiot steals an essay, put the writer in a full-body bind, then GIVES THE BLOODY THING BACK?" Ron shook his head. "He makes me so bloody angry!"

                "Clam down Ron. The last thing we should do is let him get on our nerves like that. That's just what he wants."

                "Why are you so calm about this?" Ron demanded "I would have thought you'd be furious!" 

                Harry shrugged. "Life's too short to let bastards like Malfoy get in the way. That my new tactic, ignoring him." He moved his piece.

                "Whatever. Checkmate."

                Harry frowned. "How come you always manage to beat me?"

                Ron shrugged. "Don't worry, you don't suck. I'm just really good." He got up. "Well, I'm going to go back to the dorm. See you in a bit?"

                "Yeah," said Harry, putting away the chess set. Ron left, and Harry was all alone in the common room. He pulled out his essay, re-reading what he'd written. 

                "I've never seen you work so hard on anything for Potions class," said a voice from behind him. Harry knew who it was immediately.

                "Hey Hermione," He said without turning around. 

                "Just came to see how you're doing. I ran into Ron on the way down here, and he was muttering something about you, Malfoy and a full-body bind… sounded rather nasty…" She arched an eyebrow. Harry made a gagging noise.

                "Don't be vulgar!" He exclaimed. "Oh… I sound like you!" 

                "And I sound like you!" Hermione said before bursting into giggles. "Sorry, I'm feeling rather odd tonight."

                "Don't worry about it." Harry turned to face her and suddenly felt light-headed. The room began to spin slowly, and his vision became hazy, as thought someone had breathed on his glasses. He squeezed his eyes shut.

                "Harry? Are you all right?"

                Harry opened his eyes. The room had stopped spinning, and his vision was clear again. _Almost clearer than before, he thought._

                "What's going on?" Hermione demanded worriedly, laying her hand on his shoulder.

                "I'm fine," he said shakily, raising his eyes to look at her. His breath caught in his throat.

                It was Hermione, of course it was Hermione, but she looked… different. Her eyes were sparkling and bright, her chestnut hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders instead of the usual frizzy tangles. Her cheeks were bright, and her mouth turned up at the corners instead of down. But most of all, the frown line between her brows which was so often there was gone. She looked happy, peaceful… _Beautiful.___

                "What?" Hermione asked laughingly.

                "Huh?"

                "What are you LOOKING at?"

                Harry laughed and shook his head. "I was just thinking that… well, you look really good tonight."

                Hermione wrinkled her nose. "No I don't". 

                "Seriously, 'Mione. I mean it." Harry saw a pink flush creeping into her cheeks. 

                "Thank you, Harry." There was a long silence, then, "Harry?"

                "Yeah?"  
                Hermione cleared her throat. "Umm, I know I act a little bossy sometimes, and sometimes IU'm not even all that nice, but after almost seven years of being your friend, I just wanted to tell you that I… Well, I love you."

                Harry looked at her incredulously. "You DO?" He looked slightly horrified. 

                Hermione laughed and shook her head. "No no… not like THAT!" Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "You're my best friend, Harry. You're like the brother I never had. I just wanted you to know. I don't always show it, and I know I push you around a lot, but you should know that I only do it because I care about you. I never… I never really had friends before Hogwarts, but, well… it's been worth the wait."

                Harry smiled. "You may not think it, but you're one of the people I admire the most. I don't really mind so much when you push me around… I think Ron and I'd both be dead by now if it' weren't for you. 

Ron may be my best friend, but you're pretty much my family. He put an arm around her. "I still wish for my parents sometimes, but at least I know that I have friends who care about me." Hermione laughed and pulled away to look at him. 

                "EVER the sentimental one. I should repeat this conversation to that group of third-year girls who're always following you around."

                Harry glared jestingly. "You even dare, and I swear I'll…"

                "Okay, okay… just joking!" Hermione sank back into the couch. "I'm exhausted!"

                "You should go get some sleep… Wouldn't want to drift off during the Dark Arts test tomorrow." 

                "Good point." Hermione stood up and stretched. "Good night then." 

                "'Night, Mione." Harry smiled as she left the room, thinking that he was truly lucky to have good friends like Hermione and Ron. Just as Harry thought his name, he heard a voice behind him that could only belong to the youngest Weasley brother.

                "Still sitting here all alone?"

                Harry turned his head to see Ron, a smirk on his face, leaning against the doorframe. 

                "Thought you went up to the dorm room," Harry said.

                "Yeah, but I had to talk to you. Got a minute?"

                "Sure." Harry shifted his books off the sofa to make rrom beside him. Ron sat down, and Harry noticed that he was shifting nervously in his seat. "What is it?"

                Ron took a deep breath. "Well, I've wanted to say this for some time now, but… maybe it's best if I just show you…"

                Before Harry could protest, Ron had surged forward and pressed his lips to Harry's. For a moment, Harry didn't respond, and then he pulled away as quickly as he could. "Ron, what the hell…"

                Ron got up from the sofa. "I've got to go…"

                "Hey wait a minute!" Harry furrowed his brow as Ron fled the room. __

_                What the HELL was that?!?_

                                                                                *****

                "He didn't!" Hermione was in shock as she walked towards the school with Harry after morning Quidditch practice. 

                "He did." Harry kicked at the grass as he walked. "And then he just ran off." He took a water bottle out of his Quidditch bag. "It was weird tough… he didn't SEEM like Ron. I mean, it HAD to have been him, but he just wasn't acting normal." Harry unscrewed the cap to his water bottle and was about to take a sip when Hermione grabbed the bottle from his hand. "HEY!" protested Harry. "What…"

                Hermione sniffed the water carefully, then poured a bit into the palm of her hand. To Harry's surprise, the water was a sickly sort of green.

                "I knew it," Hermione whispered. "Harry, when was the last time you refilled this?"

                "Last night, before practice."

                "And the last time you drank from it?"

                "Last night, after practice. Why is it GREEN?"

                Hermione breathed an exasperated sigh. "I can see you didn't do a very thorough job researching your potions topic," she said off-handedly. "FUNDUNGITIS POTION, Harry! It turns green when it expires! Someone must have slipped it into your bottle when you weren't paying attention." She pour some more of the tainted water into her palm. "It's rather dark… indicating a large concentration of the potion. Which means Ron didn't REALLY kiss you in the common room, you just…" she paused , raising her eyes to his face. "Oh…"

                It took Harry a moment to process this information and catch onto what Hermione was suggesting. When it finally sank in, he turned to Hermione with a startled gaze. "But that's… that's impossible! I don't…  
                "You do, Harry," stated Hermione with a leveling gaze. "You have to." 

                Harry shook his head. "NO, I don't! That's… is that even POSSIBLE?"

                "What, to be in love with your best friend?" she paused, then, in a lower tone, "Of course it is."

                "I'm not.." Harry began, stopping to inspect the area around them to make sure they were alone. "I'm not in love with Ron," he hissed. "That's crazy!"

                "Maybe not in love, but you must have feelings for him if the potion reacted that way."

                Harry shook his head. "That's crazy," he repeated. "I'm 17 years old! Wouldn't I know if I was gay? Wouldn't YOU know?"

                "Not necessarily," Hermione said quietly. Harry made a frustrated noise. 

                "What the hell is going on here?" He look at Hermione with a crazy look in his eyes. "I don't understand it!"

                "Oh Harry…" Hermione sighed and pulled her coat tighter around herself. "I know this isn't the easiest way to find out how you really feel, but…"

                "I don't even know what it is I feel, Hermione! I'm just so confused!" Hermione put her hand on his shoulder.

                "I know. But Harry, it doesn't matter what you're feeling, I'll still be here for you. I'm going to see you through this, no matter what."

                "Thanks Hermione." Harry embraced her shakily. For a moment he just stood with his arms around her, and then, in a lower tone, "What if I DO like dim? What then?" Hermione sighed.

                "I don't know, Harry. I really don't. But hey, the good news is the potion has worn off by now."

                "And the bad news is we're going to be late for breakfast if we don't get a move on!" The two headed towards the building together.

                                                                                *****

                Ron raised his head as Harry took his seat next to him at the Gryffindor table. "Where were you?"

                Harry shrugged. "Talking to Hermione after practice."  He raised an eyebrow as he glanced and his bowl. "Porridge?" 

                Ron nodded, swallowing a spoonful of oatmeal. "You wouldn't think it, but it actually tastes pretty good."

                "I'll pass," Harry said, suddenly feeling a lot less hungry. He drank his orange juice and glanced at his bright-haired friend out of the corner of his eye. Ron had finished his porridge and was now absent-mindedly dragging his spoon across the empty bowl. Harry found himself regarding his friend with a new sort of curiosity which he couldn't entirely understand. 

                Ron sensed Harry's eyes on him and felt his face flushing. _What is he staring at me for? Ron continued to toy with his spoon in silence. Finally, Harry spoke up._

                "Ready for the Dark Arts quiz?"

                "Guess I'll have to be." He shifted uneasily in his chair. "So, when did you get in last night? I didn't hear you at all."

                "Oh, I fell asleep in the common room after… after Hermione left." Harry cursed himself silently for almost slipping up. "I came in around two or three."

                "Oh." Ron was silent, then he turned and looked at Harry. "What's wrong?"

                Harry looked startled for a moment, and then he laughed. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong."

                Ron shook his head. "Harry, I've been your friend for long enough to know when something's up with you, and something is DEFINITELY up with you this morning."

                "Now is REALLY not the time for me to tell you about it," Harry said quietly. Ron regarded him curiously with a little concern. 

                "All right. Well, you know if you want to talk about it…"

                "I don't," Harry said quickly, a little more loudly than he'd intended. Several of the younger students turned to stare at him. "I've got to go," he said, this time more quietly. "See you in class." He didn't see Hermione shaking her head or Ron's hurt expression as he fled the great hall.


	2. Several More Revelations of a Rather Odd...

A/N: My original chapter 2 was about 14 pages handwritten… so I've split it up into smaller blocks cuz I really want to post. This chapter has more stuff, and there's lots of people. Walking around. Doing…stuff. Yeah. 

Hey, give me break, I'm really tired. 

Thanks again to Meg Albatou for the use of her computer.

(Nymphean: Em, can I use your computer?

Meg Albatou *Still half asleep*: No, I hate you.

Nymphean: Okay! *Type type type*)

Also, thank you to Stranger (The best thing you've read all day?! THANK you! *adds Stranger to 'people of the year' list…* There's more coming… hold up!)

Enjoy! Luv, -Nymphean

Chapter 2: Several More Revelations of a Rather Odd Sort…

                Seamus Finnigan lurked sulkily in one corner of his four-poster bed. The curtains were drawn around him so that no light could get it, but Seamus could tell it was a sunny day from the way Dean was whistling. 

                In the small bathroom, Dean Thomas rinsed the last of the shaving cream from his face and toweled off his newly-smooth skin, grinning at his reflection. "Seamus, get out of bed! You're missing the best part of the day!"

                "What, the part where I kill you?"

                Dean chuckled merrily. "Come on, stupid! You've already missed breakfast!"

                "Too early!" yelled Seamus, covering himself with the blankets. Dean rolled his eyes.

                "You asked for it," he muttered under his breath, going back into the bathroom and returning with a bucket of ice cold water. 

                Neville Longbottom, who had just entered the dorm room, took one look at Dean and his ammunition and squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing his temples. "Not again, Dean!"

                Dean nodded solemnly, then threw back the hangings around Seamus' bed and pitched the water at him. 

                There was a yell and a crash and a very amused chuckle, and then a very wet and very irritated Seamus was on his feet and glaring at Dean. 

                "Oh, you think that's FUNNY, do you?" He demanded, placing his hands on his hips. Dean tried his very hardest to keep a straight face.

                "No, Mr. Finnigan, Sir!" Seamus shook his head, his very wet sandy brown hair spraying the entire room with tiny droplets of water. 

                "I'll get you, Thomas," Seamus growled blackly. "You'd better sleep with one eye open!" Dean could see Seamus' mouth turn up at the corners before he turned away, heading towards the bathroom to get showered and dressed. 

                Fifteen minutes later, A cleaner, drier, more awake Seamus emerged from the bathroom, looking much more energetic than before. He threw a damp towel at Dean, hitting him in the face.

                "Gotcha!"

                "Yes, you certainly did," Dean's voice was dripping with sarcasm as he threw the towel on the floor. "I'm SO impressed."

                "As you should be. Hey look, it snowed!" Seamus pointed excitedly out the window.

                "Yes," Dean replied. "Those of us who were awake at a decent hour know that already."

                Seamus stuck his tongue out at Dean and turned back to the window. "Harry and Ron downstairs already?"

Dean shrugged, but Neville, who had actually been at breakfast, nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. I

think they had a fight or something!"

                "Lover's quarrel," said Dean casually. Neville shook his head. 

                "Oh please! Grow up, will you Dean?"

                Seamus laughed quietly. "What, jealous Neville?"

                Neville turned white. "No," he said quietly, avoiding Seamus' glance. Dean made eye contact with Seamus and shot him a confused look. Seamus shrugged and continued to get ready for Potions class, which was the Gryffindor seventh year's first period.

                "Come on, Neville. You'd have to be blind not to notice the sexual tension between those two." Dean was pulling his robe over his jeans and t-shirt. "And it's been going on for years. The only one's who DON'T get it and Harry and Ron. And maybe Hermione."

                "I don't know, Dean…" Neville fumbled around in a pile of books and parchment.

                "Oh come ON, Neville! Don't be stupid, you know it's true." Neville bit his lip as Dean continued. "Besides, it's too funny to ignore. I mean, think about it: HARRY and RON!"

                "Stop it, Dean." Seamus said lightly.

                "What? I'm just stating the fa-"

                "It's NONE of our business, Dean!" Neville was still pale. "Just shut up about it, okay?" Dean and Seamus both looked at their usually placid friend in surprise. His brow was creased in a frown, and his lower lip quivered with anger. "You have no right to talk about them like that behind their backs. _No Right!" _

                Dean looked at his feet. "Sorry Nev'. I didn't know you felt so strongly about it." Seamus, fo once, was silent.

                "Go to class," Neville said sourly.

                "What about you?"

                "I'll be along in a minute. Go to class," He repeated. Dean shrugged, and he and Seamus left the Dorm. When they had walked a short way, Seamus stopped abruptly and turned to his friend. "Shite, I forgot my essay," He said shortly. "I'll be back- you go on ahead." He sprinted back up the stairs to the dorm room and bounded through the door. Neville got to his feet as Seamus entered the room.

                "You forgot your essay." He was holding out the roll of parchment. Seamus grabbed it from him hastily. "I'm not going to ruin it, you know."

                Seamus looked at Neville with curious concern. "I know…" he said slowly. "Hey Nev… what's up with you today?"

                Neville shrugged. "What's up with me every day?" He fell back onto his bed. "It's always the same."

                Seamus sat down on the edge of the mattress, full of his usual pent-up energy. "And that is?"

                "You don't want to know."

                "Oh, yes I do!"

                Neville squeezed his eyes shut. "NO, you DON'T."

                Seamus stopped bouncing on the edge of the bed and looked at Neville curiously. "You're really upset, aren't you?"

                "I guess you could say that," said Neville, laughing sardonically. Seamus furrowed his brow. 

                "Well, if you want to talk about it…"

                Neville shook his head. "No offense, Seamus, but you're the last person I want to talk with about this." Seamus looked slightly offended.

                "I know I may not seem like the most trustworthy person, but I CAN keep a secret, you know. Dean tells me secrets all the time, and I've never once…"

                "Oh no, it's not like that…" Neville sighed. "It's not like that at all."

                "Did I do something? 'Cause you know, a lot of the time I do things or say things without thinking, and I never really know who I'm offending until they're coming after me with a projectile weapon…"

                No no…" Neville held up his hand to stop Seamus and smiled sadly. "You didn't do anything, don't worry."

                Seamus studied Neville's expression. "Hmm… pain, agony, sadness and depression. Someone's in love."

                Neville sat bolt upright. "What?! I mean, no! I mean…" 

                Seamus patted Neville's shoulder. "It's okay. I know how it feels."

                "Somehow I doubt that."

                "Look Neville, I know how you're acting. I've seen it all before. But come on… it's not all that bad…"

                Neville smiled sadly. "Oh, yes it is."

                "NO, it's NOT!" Seamus sighed. "Neville, you're problem is you have no faith in yourself. Sometimes you just have to jump in with both feet. Just go for it. Trust me, you'll be glad you did."

                "You're really not making this easy for me, you know!" 

                Seamus shot him a confused look. "What do you mean?"

                Instead of answering, Neville took a deep breath and pressed his lips to Seamus'. For a moment Seamus was too shocked to do or say anything, but then it registered in his mind what was happening, and he found himself slowly beginning to return the kiss. Their lips were locked for a short while until Neville pulled away and leapt up from the bed. 

                "I can't!" He whispered desperately. "I just… I can't!" And with that, he fled from the room, leaving behind his book, his essay, and a very confused Seamus Finnigan.

                                                                                *****

                "Your essays on mind-control potions are due today. I'm…" –a sneer- "…looking forward to reading them." Professor Snape walked around the room collecting rolls of parchment. "Ah, Mr. Finnigan!" He said as Seamus entered the room. "**_You're Late.__" Seamus grimaced and took his seat next to Dean._**

                "What happened to you?" Dean hissed. Seamus shook his head. _Not now! He tapped Hermione on the head and held out a roll of parchment. _

                "Hand this to Neville, will you? He forgot it. Hermione nodded and passed the abandoned essay to a very forlorn-looking Neville, who smiled appreciatively at her before stealing a look at Seamus. Seamus waited until Neville's eyes had left him before examining the other boy. Neville had lost his baby fat and slimmed out a few years ago. He was taller now, too. Not nearly as tall as Ron, but definitely taller than Harry. Seamus ignored the funny feeling in his stomach as the image of the Boy-Who-Lived floated into his mind, pushing it aside and continuing to survey Neville. The boy's dark hair was shaggy, but not unruly or unkempt, and he really had quite a pleasant face, now that Seamus thought about it. He wondered why he'd never noticed it before…

                "Seamus!" Dean hissed. "Heads up!" Professor Snape was headed towards them. 

                "Mr. Finnigan," the Potions Master said, a sneer on his face. "When someone asks you a question, what do you do?"

                "Depends on the question, sir." Seamus had long since decided that he had a death wish when it came to professor Snape.

                "When a TEACHER asks you a question, what do you do?"

                "Well sir, in most cases, I would answer."

                "ANSWER!" Cried professor Snape. "Exactly! So why then, Mr. Finnigan, did you not answer when I asked you a question? Too busy staring at Longbottom, perhaps?" There were chuckles from some of the Gryffindoirs and loud laughter from the Slytherins. Even Seamus, whose reputation wouldn't suffer too badly on account of this little remark, had to hold back a smile. Neville, however, turned bright red and sank down in his chair. 

                "Sorry professor… I must have drifted off with my eyes open." Profesor Snape regarded Seamus coldly. 

                "Oh, well that changes EVERYTHING. Ten points from Gryffindor, and I'll see you tonight in detention." The Slytherins cheered, and several Gryffindors turned around to glare at Seamus. 

                "Way to go, you stupid git!" Muttered Lavender Brown, who was in a particularly bad mood already. 

                "It's okay, whispered Harry, turning to face Seamus. "It happens to the best of us."

                "Yeah, but nobody ever yells at you," Seamus muttered. Harry noted that, despite the detention, the deduction of points and the jeering taunts, Seamus was still smiling. 

                _Good old optimistic Seamus._

                "Longbottom! Detention!" Yelled Snape as Neville knocked over his and Hermione's cauldrons. 

                "And it begins…" Ron whispered to Harry, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Poor Neville!"

                                                                                *****

                "How are you doing, Harry?" Hermione's tone was low as she sat down beside him at the lunch table. Harry shrugged. 

                "Been better."

                "Well, the good news is I have a hunch about you put that potion in your drink!" As she spoke, Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed it towards a passing Draco Malfoy. "Subtotius Instabellus!" the bottom of the bag holding Draco's books fell apart, spilling his school supplies all over the floor.

                "You'll pay for that, Granger!" Draco yelled, bending to collect his things, Hermione narrowed her eyes and spotted a small vial of yellowish liquid. 

                "Accio potion!" She yelled, and the vial shot into her hand. "Well well, Malfoy. Looks like you're in a spot of trouble!" she turned the vial over, showing Harry the label that clearly read 'Fundungitis Potion'. The vial was at least half empty.

                "I'm going to kill you, Malfoy!" Harry leapt up from his seat and lunged at Draco. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm. 

                "Calm down, Harry!"

                "I'm gonna kill him!" Harry tore his arm out of  Hermione's grasp. "He poisoned me!"

                "Harry, just stop for a second. Don't be rash about this!"

                "WHAT is the matter over here?!" The three students turned to see Professor McGonagall walking towards them. 

                "Nothing professor!" Hermione replied quickly, before Harry could tell her anything. McGonagall eyed her suspiciously.

                "All right. Kepp it down then, this is a lunch table, not a playground!" 

                "Yes, professor!" Hermione grabbed Harry and pulled him away from the table. "Come on. Can we please just talk about this before you go berserk again?" Harry was shaking angrily.

                "I don't want to talk, I want to kill Malfoy."

                "Just WAIT a minute, will you?" Hermione pulled him around the corner and looked up and down the empty hall. "We can get him back LATER," SHE WHISPERED. "Just focus on the taks at hand right now, okay?"

                Harry seemed to calm down a little. "Task at hand?" Hermione shot him a meaningful look. "Oh." Harry furrowed his brow. "What if I don't want to focus on that?" 

                "Harry, I know you're smarter than that. One doesn't become Head Boy by being an idiot."

                "You should know," Harry said, gesturing to Hermione's Head Girl badge. He laughed quietly to himself.

                "What? Did I say something funny?"

                Harry shook his head. "No, no… I was just thinking that everything's so backwards. I mean, we're Head boy and girl. Aren't WE supposed to end up together?"

                Now it was Hermione's turn to laugh. "I suppose we've just become living proof that life is not a fairy tale." 

                "Yeah. I mean, what kind of fairy tale hero falls in love with his best friend?"

                Hermione stopped laughing. "You DO realize what you've just said," She whispered. Harry stopped short. 

                "I… I don't know…"

                "It looks like you've figured it out, Harry."

                Harry's green eyes stared into her brown ones for a moment before he nodded. "Yes. I think I have."


End file.
